Sister Morphine
by WritingTheUnknown
Summary: When someone you love dies, you tend to forget everything bad about them, and eventually your good memories of them merge with the love you share with other people who knew them. That's the way Denmark remembered his father, or at least he pretends (rated M for drug use)


**Sweet cousin cocaine, lay your cool cool hand on  
my head  
****Ah, come on, sister morphine, you better make up my bed  
****'cause you know and I know in the morning I'll be dead**

_**"Sister Morphine" by The Rolling Stones**_

* * *

**Mathias' POV:**

It's been two hours since my last dream. The moonlight dimmed when drilling the immaculate, pale curtain, as I lay on my bed wrapped up and still overcome by the thoughts that the nightmare had left as traces. I contemplated then the Roman numbers engraved on the clock with fatigue, filled with dullness and lifeless, the intermittent sound of each second that went by pierced my mind causing me insomnia, and the withdrawal ate me away, its effect being the reason why I couldn't rest. Alas! I couldn't stand it anymore…

I took my pair of black boots, a classic red suit and I got changed quickly, I didn't have time for hesitations.  
Out, the night had turned warm, despite of the remaining snow, almost invisible clouds resembled dust in the sky, covering partially the blue moon, and the subtle wind gracefully became audible and tactile.

I walked up to my little brother's place. The streets were empty, without any sign of life; the poor background betrayed my true intentions.  
I arrived then to that already known corner, I looked round, confirming the fact that no one was watching me for then knock twice the familiar and rusty circular window.

"Goodnight, Mathias, what are you looking for?" The faceless dealer asked from inside, with stentorian voice

"T-The amount of morphine that this could buy"

The drug trafficker opened partially the old window and spread out his hand full of wrinkles and hair to let me proceed to give him the money: approximately a thousand five-hundred krone. The merchant inspected for a second the amount of cash and then he passed me a syringe, a rubber bow and three bottles of the substance that I wanted so much.

"Thank you very much, goodbye" I said goodbye thanking him, starting to walk away from the place

"Goodbye, enjoy it" I heard the dealer say from afar

I walked then until find a chemical toilette near the area, which I entered in after checking that no one was there. Once inside, I rolled up my right sleeve, I laced the band with a hand and I slid my index finger by the forearm to find a vein; once found, I prepared the liquid into the syringe to inject me it. I felt a sharp pinch; followed by a burning sensation and heaviness under the skin, the toxic fluid running through my veins…  
I continued doing this with the other bottle, and the other one… Suddenly I felt relieved, livelier, like if all the weight I load with had vanished; so I noticed that the morphine was working.  
Satisfied with the results, I took some water from the toilet to rub my face.

It was then when I saw him…

Towering over me, I saw the figure of my father screaming. I knew he was him, but this one was a grotesque form of him. It was eyeless, instead of them there were two black and empty sockets crying blood, giving a rusty effect to his cheeks. His skin was so pale that it turned on blue; he was naked, with his silver long hair wet, adhering to his shoulders which bones stood out. He wasn't precisely screaming, but his jaw seemed strained, more open than a normal person could do. His knees were uneven, so he bent forward, his arms reached his ankles, and his nails were irregularly broken.

The sound of my screaming filled the narrow place, and even if the fear paralyzed me, I fell back; opening the toilette's door and making my head hit the pavement. I stood up and started to run until reaching a tree not so far from there, where I threw up after seeing a shadow.

"Mikkel, what the hell have you done now?!"

But no one answered.

"Mikkel, I know you're there! What did you do to me?!"

The shadow approached me, and the last thing I saw was a pair of green eyes, then, everything turned black…

* * *

**...Actually, I didn't plan to post it, but I did it anyway because I wanted to show it to a friend.  
Now, I know that morphine is an analgesic drug, but it has therapeutic uses too (and yeah, it sometimes produces hallucinations, but in weird cases).  
This is part of a chapter from Requiem in Blue, a fanfiction I'm currently writing and that I'll post next year. The translation was made by me so it probably has many misspellings, sorry about it ^^'**

**Hetalia and the character Denmark belongs to Himaruya**

**Mikkel (Denmark's alter-ego or 2P!) belongs to me**

**Hi Maki =3**


End file.
